


the devil and her deeds

by allthingsgo



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 05:33:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19042135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthingsgo/pseuds/allthingsgo
Summary: Villanelle takes a pit stop in Sicily to process what happened. She paints.





	the devil and her deeds

A drop of red. A merlot shade. She contemplates her work. 

In English they call it splatter. Too ugly a word for something so captivating. So shocking. Something that has always, always thrilled her. 

She frowns now. A pity others cannot also find it so thrilling, but alas. 

Her loss, she thinks, and dips the paintbrush back down. 

It’s black and gleaming when she lifts it. Black as that awful licorice she impulse bought in Amsterdam when she didn't know what else to do with herself. It glides across the canvas, swirling into thick waves that glisten just like the real thing. This is also thrilling, in a different way.

She understands now that art is feeling, though for the most part the anger has settled into something solid and cold in her gut. Something much more familiar. 

She was, to be clear, very angry. She was furious. She wanted to rip Eve's head off for being so stubborn. But now she's fine. Now her mind is serene, each deliberate stroke of the brush like a wiper on a windshield, an eraser on a chalkboard, or a katana through a corrupt banker. Konstantin really got on her case for that one. Not clean enough, he said.

She rolls her eyes thinking about it. 

He's always been so boring. Wanting to run back to his obnoxious family was the final nail in the coffin. 

_Dead to me._

They're all dead to her now. She shifts in her chair, sniffles a little and resumes her activity. There’s a lot of dust in here. 

It's unlike her, but she's been sitting on a rough wooden stool and painting for a couple of hours. She's taken one bathroom break and one languid walk around the mostly empty workshop trying to remember where she hid the booze last time she was here, but otherwise her attention has not drifted from the canvas in front of her. The smell of brush cleaner and oil is clinging all over her clothes but she remains unbothered. The mundanity of it all amuses her. Is this what Eve was so scared of running away with? 

She scoffs. It reverberates low and gravelly in the lonely space. 

Eve clearly did not know what was good for her. 

One day she will thank her for leaving her in a Roman ruin to bleed out and kickstart a much needed introspection. One day she will find her, because that’s what they do for each other, and she will say V, you were _so right._

She’ll lift her shirt and show her a perfect little scar. She’ll know that they are the same and she’ll beg to take that flight to Alaska. She’ll press their bodies together.

And then Villanelle will say no.

Her brush applies the final touches on the nose, the closed eyes, the lips. So beautiful. It will be hard to say no. But she wants to see it. 

She wants to know what she looked like yesterday. She wants another mirror to find herself in. 

**Author's Note:**

> "A Case Of You" came on during shuffle and idk why but I just thought of V painting her feelings.


End file.
